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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133796">circling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/janfives90/pseuds/Fives'>Fives (janfives90)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, charity ride au, mini chapters of dumbness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:42:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/janfives90/pseuds/Fives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma opens her eyes and immediately blushes.</p>
<p>The girl on top of her is the most beautiful person Emma has ever seen in her whole life.</p>
<p>“H-Hi,” Emma stammers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Emma! Hurry up!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma Nolan takes her headphones off and lets them rest around her neck, shoving her iPod into her pocket as she runs towards the refreshment table of the Edgewater Annual Charity Ride. She glances down at her watch to check the time, and when she looks up, it’s just in time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightly</span>
  </em>
  <span> slow down before she slams into another girl running in the opposite direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They tumble onto the ground, Emma’s back hitting the gravel of the parking lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma opens her eyes and immediately blushes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl on top of her is the most beautiful person Emma has ever seen in her whole life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“H-Hi,” Emma stammers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma just stares at her. “Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl gives a small laugh, her clear brown eyes so close that Emma’s already lost. “Maybe you’re not okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Huh?” Emma blinks, and her sense tries to fight through. “O-Oh. Uh. Yeah. What’s a little gravel, right?” She laughs awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so,” the girl says with a grin. “I’m Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m…” Emma glances at her watch and pales. “Oh, heck, I’m so late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“SoLate is an interesting name,” Alyssa replies, giving Emma a teasing smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Emma.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m Emma. Uh, and, uh, I really need to go help my grandmother put out waters for the bikers, so, uh, could you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” Alyssa looks, seemingly realizing only in that moment that her hands are pinning Emma’s shoulders down. “Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gosh. I’m so sorry.” She scrambles to her feet, and Emma notices a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks as she helps Emma up. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Positive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa takes Emma’s arm and turns her, brushing some sand and dirt off of the back of her shirt. “I, uh, maybe I’ll grab a water from you after the ride.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a biker?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa gives her a shy smile. “It’s the first year I could try it. I’m thirteen. I always thought it looked like fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My grandmother’s been a volunteer for years, but this was the first year I could help. I’m thirteen, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool!” Alyssa brushes a bit more dirt off of Emma’s shoulder. “I, uh… hope you have a nice day, Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma nods. “Have a fun bike ride, Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa smiles before turning and running off towards the cluster of riders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma watches her go, a dopey grin on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Emma! Let’s go!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crap,” she mutters before continuing her run to the refreshment table.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alyssa mumbles an almost-curse under her breath as she kneels down to fix her bike chain.</p><p>“Is everything okay, honey?”</p><p>She glances up at her mother, walking around with a clipboard. “Yes, Mom. Just changed the gear wrong by accident.”</p><p>“Just make sure you’re careful, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, <em> especially </em> you.” Mrs. Greene watches her for a moment. “Do you need help?”</p><p>“I’m fine, I just-”</p><p>“Here you go, Mrs. Greene!”</p><p>Alyssa’s words catch in her throat when a very familiar blonde jogs up to them and hands Mrs. Greene a piece of paper.</p><p>“The registration desk said that everybody should be here. That’s the last sign-in sheet.”</p><p>“Thank you very much, Emma.” Mrs. Greene points at Alyssa, who’s just staring up at Emma. “Oh, have you met my daughter, Alyssa? This is her second year in the ride.”</p><p>Emma looks down, and Alyssa would swear that she pales. “I-I… Yeah, I did. Last year, right? We, er, bumped into each other.”</p><p>Alyssa says nothing.</p><p>“...Right. Uhm. I need to go back to my grandmother.” Emma gives a small, dorky wave. “Bye, Mrs. Greene. Nice, uh, nice seeing you again, Alyssa.”</p><p>As she runs off, Mrs. Greene frowns down at her daughter. “That wasn’t very polite.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Ignoring Emma Nolan. She might not be on your social level, Alyssa, but she’s a very nice girl, and she comes from a wonderful family.” Mrs. Greene pauses. “Well, from a wonderful grandmother. Her parents are, shall we say, in need of the Lord’s guidance.”</p><p>“Oh.” Alyssa’s face goes red, and she rubs the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to ignore her. I was just surprised to see her. I guess I assumed we’d be in the same school or something, so when I didn’t see her after last year I figured I wouldn’t see her again.”</p><p>“Maybe she goes to the public school? You’ll probably see her in September when you start freshman year.” Mrs. Greene adds the paper Emma gave her to the clipboard. “After the ride, you should go over to the refreshment stand and apologize for being so rude.”</p><p>Alyssa winces. “Yes, Mom.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The moment Alyssa gets to the refreshment stand, she grabs one of the cups of water and downs the entire thing. As she sets it down, panting, someone picks it up, refills it, and holds it back out to her.</p><p>“You alright there, Greene?” Emma asks, eyebrow raised.</p><p>Alyssa nods as she accepts the cup back. “Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem. You look like you need it.”</p><p>“Mhm.” Alyssa takes in a deep breath. “Why do we have this thing in the summer?”</p><p>“To make us suffer,” Emma deadpans.</p><p>“Us? What’s this <em> us? </em> You’re under this nice shady tent.”</p><p>“Yeah, but the fans on either side of me don’t follow me when I go take two seconds to throw something out.”</p><p>Alyssa sighs. “I hate you.”</p><p>Emma grins. “It’s something.”</p><p>She drinks her refilled water and plays with the corner of the tablecloth. “I’m sorry about just… awkwardly staring at you earlier. I was just surprised. When I didn’t see you in school after last year, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m homeschooled. You’d be <em> shocked </em> how good a retired teacher is at keeping a smartmouthed teenager in line and studying.”</p><p>Alyssa laughs, a warmth in her chest when Emma blushes a little and looks down, adjusting her glasses. “Well, I guess I’ll have to wait and see you next year,” she jokes.</p><p>“Yeah, don’t be such a stranger,” Emma says with a laugh.</p><p>She holds out her cup for another refill, smiling when Emma holds her hand steady while the water pours.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emma jots a note down on a piece of paper and barely glances up as two people approach the registration desk. “Name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, I know it’s been a year, but did you really forget?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma looks up for real this time and blushes. “Hi, Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa grins and puts her hands in the pockets of her shorts. “Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh… Let me…” Emma clears her throat and picks up the sign-in sheet, handing it over to her with a pen. “You’re number 73.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe that’s my new lucky number,” Alyssa jokes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can hope.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl next to Alyssa clears her throat loudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Alyssa blinks, almost startled, then points at her friend. “Uh, Emma, this is Shelby. We go to high school together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shelby nods at Emma, a small smirk on her face. “Mind if I sign in too, Lys?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, right, of course!” Alyssa steps to the side, her gaze lingering on Emma as Emma hands a number out to Shelby without looking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seventy,” Shelby says, squinting at the paper in her hand. “If Emma here is as magic as Alyssa here seems to think, maybe I’ll get a lucky number, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa shoves her lightly. “Shut up, Shelby.” She takes the pen from Shelby’s hand and gives it back to Emma. “We should go,” she says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma nods. “I hope the ride goes well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yeah…” Alyssa murmurs, just staring at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shelby looks between them for a moment before sighing and rolling her eyes. “Come on. We’re going to be late, Greene.” She gives a small wave as she grabs Alyssa’s arm and starts pulling her away. “Nice meeting you, Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” Emma replies, staring at Alyssa’s smile as the two other girls leave.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Disappointment hits Alyssa square in the chest when she doesn’t see Emma at either the registration or refreshment tables.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Mom?” she asks, casually. “Is Emma here this year?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so, honey, I know I saw her grandmother. Why don’t you go ask?” Mrs. Greene frowns at her. “Do you need something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, nothing,” Alyssa says quickly. “I was just wondering.” She gives a laugh she knows sounds awkward. “I feel like she’s part of the routine now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene gives her a gentle smile. “Well, I’m sure you’ll see her sometime today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Mrs. Greene walks away, Alyssa hears Shelby scoff next to her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I feel like she’s part of the routine now,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she repeats, mocking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alyssa demands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shelby smirks and shakes her head, adjusting one of her helmet straps. “Greene, if you don’t know, you might be hopeless.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>Betsy Nolan is on the snack side of the refreshment table, her usual spot, handing out granola bars and orange slices.</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Mrs. Nolan,” Alyssa greets as she approaches the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Alyssa! How are you feeling?” Betsy holds out a tray. “Eat an orange slice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t need-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Betsy squints at her over her glasses. “They’re good for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa takes an orange slice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now. Can I help you with anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just wondering if Emma was here this year,” Alyssa says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She is. Barry needed help directing traffic over in the spectator lot, so he pulled her over.” Betsy gives a thin smile. “She seemed grumpier about it than I would’ve expected. Were you two planning to meet up before the ride?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. No. Nothing like that.” Alyssa puts her hands up defensively. “Just wanted to say hi. Maybe I’ll catch her later.” She laughs, wincing when she hears an even more awkward tone this time. “Or, like, y’know, tell her I said hi, in case I don’t see her? Er, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do that,” Betsy says calmly, an amused glint in her eyes that makes Alyssa shift her weight between her feet uncomfortably.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool. Awesome. I should go. Now.” Alyssa pauses a moment longer. “Bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Betsy laughs in a way that’s far too knowing. “Goodbye, Alyssa.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey, Emma!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She practically braces herself before she turns around, grinning when she sees Alyssa walking up to her in the staging lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alyssa,” Emma greets with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They officially moved you to lot duty now, huh?” Alyssa reaches out and playfully flicks a finger against the ‘VOLUNTEER’ badge on the high-vis vest Emma is wearing over her t-shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, well, yeah, sort of. I think parking lot babysitter is where they stick the kids who are old enough to not just pour water but still too young to handle money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds logical enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma rubs the back of her neck, searching for conversation. “Uh, I missed you last year. My grandmother delivered your hello, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, good. Yeah, I couldn’t find you after the ride, and my mom had to go to a house showing so we couldn’t stick around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, yeah, of course.” Emma clears her throat. “So, uh, how have you been? How’s school?” She winces. “Life?” She winces harder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“School’s fine. Fine. I’m on track for valedictorian.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So am I,” Emma deadpans. “Real tough classmates.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa snorts. “I’m sure. A cat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Grandma’s border collie. He’s scary smart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa grins like she can’t help herself, and it makes Emma’s whole body feel warm. “Well, I’m glad you’ve managed to surpass him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somebody has to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed.” Alyssa fidgets with the numbers pinned to her shirt. “Life’s good, too. Friends are good. Activities are good. Mom’s good.” She coughs before mumbling something else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Single,” Alyssa mutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma laughs sharply. “Definitely can relate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep. We can have a club.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shelby’s not invited, because she and our other friend Kaylee both got boyfriends this year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boys are gross.” Emma pales and stares at Alyssa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just shrugs. “I’m certainly not going to argue. Or date one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma lets out a slow breath before saying, “Relate to that one, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa looks up sharply. “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Emma says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… Good.” Alyssa glances at her watch. “Uh, I have to go so I’m not late for the start.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go, go, I don’t want you to be late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa grabs her bike and starts to walk it away. She pauses and turns back towards Emma, as if she’s going to say something, but instead she just turns again and continues.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Did you get taller?” Alyssa asks when Emma stops next to her bike.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma blinks and looks down at her feet as if they’ll have an answer. “I don’t think so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crap, I think I’m getting shorter, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma laughs and holds the bike upright as Alyssa adjusts one of the pedals. “Small, but cute.” She goes red, and Alyssa grins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Glad you think so, Nolan.” Alyssa stands, setting her hands on her bike to steady herself, accidentally putting them right on top of Emma’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have, uh…” Emma visibly swallows. “Have a nice day, Lys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa squeezes Emma’s hands briefly before shifting to let her move. “You too, Em.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watches as Emma backs up, maintaining Alyssa’s gaze until she almost trips over someone else’s bike. Alyssa gives a small, affectionate giggle and waves, then walks her bike over to where Shelby and Kaylee, joining the ride for the first time, are having a whispered conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up?” Alyssa asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s Emma Nolan, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa blinks at Kaylee. “Yeah? Do you know her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaylee shakes her head. “Shelby was just telling me about your… interest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Interest? What interest?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shelby rolls her eyes. “Alyssa. Seriously?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everybody who has ever been to one of these rides knows that you have a crush on Emma!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa coughs and runs a hand through her hair. “I do not. And nobody thinks that but you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I noticed it in about ten seconds,” Kaylee mutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shelby grabs the arm of one of the adult riders walking past them. “Angie, who does Alyssa like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Angie Dickinson doesn’t miss a beat. “Emma Nolan, why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just testing a theory, thanks,” Shelby says, letting Angie go as Alyssa groans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re all ridiculous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Question,” Kaylee says slowly. “You at least have her number, right? So you can talk to her throughout the year?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa doesn’t answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Shelby sighs. “You’re the most hopeless person alive.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s pouring rain as Emma scrambles to hide as many signs and forms and boxes of t-shirts under tents as she can manage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Emma!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Need a hand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks up as the wind blows back the hood of her raincoat and braces at the gust of water that hits her face. “Yeah, I’d appreciate it, Lys. Can you grab that last box of shirts?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa runs and drags them under a table, then squeaks as more wind throws water at them. “This is insane! We can’t ride like this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Com-” Emma splutters as a leaf hits her in the face. As Alyssa laughs, Emma brushes it off and says, “Come on, let’s get out of this until it calms down a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grabs Alyssa’s wrist and pulls her, running to the volunteers’ parking lot, one of the closest of the bunch. She unlocks her truck before they get to it, yanking open the passenger door and helping Alyssa inside before she stumbles around to the driver's side and climbing in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ,” Emma sighs, pulling her jacket off and throwing it behind her seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa pulls her own jacket over her head. “Mind if I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She puts her jacket behind the seat with Emma’s and lets out a breath. “Wow. This is a hell of a storm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Protocol says that they’ll wait an hour, and if it doesn’t stop, or the ground is too wet to continue with the ride at that hour, it’ll be canceled.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shame,” Alyssa mumbles. “The cancer center gets so much funding from this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ll ask if people still want to donate even if the ride didn’t happen. Most people go for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I certainly would.” Alyssa leans back in her seat, tapping her fingers against her knees. “So. This is your truck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma grins. “No, I just stole someone’s keys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa reaches over to smack her, and Emma dodges out of the way. “I’m just making conversation. What else are we supposed to do for an hour?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean, what, are we going to get to know each other? That would be ridiculous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Preposterous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I want to know anything about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly how I feel. You’re a menace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma swallows as Alyssa stares at her a little too intensely. “Uhm. Do you wan-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa grabs a fistful of her t-shirt and pulls her forward, kissing her. Almost as quickly, she lets go, looking stunned. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little dazed, Emma continues the momentum forward, cutting off Alyssa’s words by kissing her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They shuffle a bit on the bench seat, lying down as best they can and losing themselves, Alyssa’s hands in Emma’s hair, Emma’s hands firmly on either side of Alyssa’s head because she’s too scared to put them anywhere else. All teeth and tongues, time vanishing, sense an afterthought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma doesn’t think again until she hears a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang!</span>
  </em>
  <span> against the side of her truck that startles her back into the realm of physical existence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sits up so fast that she hits her head on the roof of the truck cab, disoriented, blinking as she stares out the windshield at a parking lot where it isn’t raining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa is still lying down, her legs under Emma, trying to catch her breath as she stares, bewildered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s another </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang!</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Emma finally turns her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she does, she goes pale and opens the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She steps out of the truck and partially closes the door, giving Mrs. Greene what she hopes is an innocent smile. “Hi,” she rasps, her voice low and hoarse. She clears her throat quickly. “Uhm, hi, Mrs. Greene.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Alyssa blush a deep red and scramble to grab her jacket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Emma,” Mrs. Greene greets calmly, an unreadable glint in her eyes. “We’ve been trying to find you and Alyssa. The decision was made that the ride isn’t going to happen this year. The ground is too wet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow; usually they wait an hour.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been an hour.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma, somehow, feels herself go even more pale. “O-Oh,” she squeaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you found us both,” Alyssa says, prodding Emma to get her to open the door enough for her to step out. “We were, uh, talking during the storm and lost track of time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene’s expression doesn’t even twitch. “Talking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma looks between Alyssa and her mother and rubs the back of her neck. “I, uh… Y’know, I think I should go help pack everything up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should go get my bike,” Alyssa says quickly. She turns and starts to walk away, looking over her shoulder to say, “Next year, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“R-Right,” Emma stammers. She watches Alyssa walk away, swallowing when she realizes Mrs. Greene is still standing behind her. She turns around slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talking,” Mrs. Greene says for a third time, sounding almost exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talking,” Emma repeats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lord Jesus save us,” Mrs. Greene mutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene just shakes her head and walks away.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Why are you avoiding Emma?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa looks up from her bike tire and frowns at her mother. “I’m not avoiding Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs. Greene sighs heavily. “Is this because of what happened last year? Alyssa, I told you not to bury it, but you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, I told you, nothing happened last year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gets an exasperated look in response. “Oh, you mean you didn’t make out with Emma Nolan for about an hour?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmph. When I was your age that was definitely something, but if you say so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we just let it go? Everything’s fine. I just haven’t seen Emma.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Sure.” Mrs. Greene turns and catches the attention of one of her friends, another volunteer. “Karen! Question for you. Do you think it would be inappropriate to pray for my gay daughter to get her head out of her rear in regards to her dating life and just ask out the girl she has feelings for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mom!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>Alyssa walks over to the refreshment table, rubbing her forehead and wincing.</p>
<p>
  <span>“Long day? You haven’t even been on a bike yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks up and gives Emma a strained, but light, smile. “My mother is just being a pest.” She leans against the table. “Back at the waters? I thought you had the grownup jobs now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most of the time, but they needed a set of hands back here for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet they’re pretty talented hands,” Alyssa says, before she can stop herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma pales, just a little, and stammers, “I-I’d… like to think so.” They stare at each other for a long moment before Emma swallows, looking nervous as she dares, “You could always skip the biking and meet me at my truck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa’s stomach flips. “God. If this thing wasn’t raising money for charity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stupid charity,” Emma jokes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa steels herself before leaning across the table, close enough that she sees Emma’s breath hitch. “Maybe, instead, you should give me your num-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a loud whistle that echoes through the staging area to summon all bikers to the starting line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, in that split second, Alyssa loses her nerve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, uh, I’ll be seeing you, Nolan, have fun at the refreshment table!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gets one last look at Emma’s confused face before she sprints off to her bike.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Emma makes her way over to the finisher’s area, grinning when she recognizes Alyssa’s face in the crowd. “You made good t-” Her brain stops functioning, and the rest of the word comes out as a helpless squeak. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“-ime.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Alyssa glances down at the form-fitting spandex shirt and shorts of a more professional bike-riding uniform. “Something wrong?” she asks, far too innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Emma manages. She clears her throat. “No. Not at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm.” Alyssa swallows and runs a hand through her hair. “How’s… school?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“School’s… fine. You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah. It’s fine. It’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stand there in silence, neither of them summoning the strength to be the one to finally break the impasse, but just when Emma thinks they’ll walk away again, Shelby stomps over to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For fuck’s sake,” Shelby grumbles. “I’m so damn tired of both of you.” She grabs Emma’s wrist and yanks her arm towards her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma blinks in confusion as Shelby takes the cap off of a Sharpie with her teeth and writes a series of numbers on Emma’s forearm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shelby, what the hell are you doing?” Alyssa demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shelby ignores her as she lets Emma’s arm go and puts the cap back on the marker. “Congratulations, Nolan, now you have Alyssa’s phone number. If you lose it, you’re an even bigger moron than I already think you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma flushes. “Okay, ow, but thank you? I think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t thank her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma glances at Alyssa, who’s redder than Emma thought possible. “No?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I… maybe? Ugh, I hate you both!” Alyssa walks away, throwing her hands in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. Just text her. Now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma frowns. “But she seems kinda pissed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shelby grabs her shoulder. “Emma. So help me God. If I have to live through one more year of Alyssa wondering whether you’ve found someone to date and worrying that she won’t see you at this ride, I’m killing you both and then throwing myself off a roof.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, alright, I’m taking my phone out, see? I’m texting her now, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you texting her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma shrugs. “Hi, this is Emma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shelby sighs heavily. “At this rate you might go on your first date when you’re fifty-seven. And that’s being optimistic.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Alyssa paces back and forth in the parking lot, staring up at the sky, muttering under her breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s genuinely starting to scare me,” Kaylee mumbles to Shelby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Alyssa snaps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shelby raises an eyebrow. “You sure look it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think all Shelby’s trying to say, honey, is that you’re kind of… wandering the parking lot… hoping that it rains… so that you can talk longer with the girl you could’ve set an actual date up with at any point the past year… but didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She goes to school in New York. I go to school in California. It’s not that simple.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet,” Shelby sighs, “you also both still live in the same town… and were home for all of winter break…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At this rate the fact that you haven’t even run into each other at a store or something is such bad luck that you should never, ever gamble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for your input, Kaylee,” Alyssa says icily. “Maybe you should-” She looks up as a light rain starts to fall on them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alyssa, that’s not even…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ignores Shelby’s words and takes off at a sprint.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p><br/>It’s starting to rain a bit harder when she climbs into the cab of Emma’s truck.</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you really just run away from Kaylee and Shelby?” Emma asks with a laugh, her arms resting casually on the steering wheel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I did. Does it matter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if they decide to look for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa snorts. “They think we’re finally seeing each other after doing nothing but talking for a year. They won’t come looking for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma glances at her out of the corner of her eye. “That’s what they think, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa skims her fingers along Emma’s shoulders as she shifts closer. “Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Interesting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma’s hands move from the wheel to Alyssa’s hips in a fluid motion as they collapse onto the bench seat in sync. Alyssa grips Emma’s hair in one hand and the back of her shirt in another, pulling her as close as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When the race is over,” Alyssa gasps between kisses. “We need to meet somewhere. I want you, Em.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma pulls back a bit, blinking down at her with what almost looks like confusion. “You mean like winter break?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, like winter break.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. I mean, yeah, but… don’t you…” Emma rubs the back of her neck and cocks her head to the side. Alyssa just barely resists the urge to kiss her for being cute. “I mean, we could always, I dunno, have dinner or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa laughs. “You mean like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emma clears her throat and sits up, face flushed red. “No. Never mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Em, I didn’t-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It stopped raining,” Emma mutters, getting out of the truck and walking back over towards the tents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alyssa watches her go, her stomach twisting into knots. “Shit,” she whispers.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emma stares down at her phone as she rushes out of the parking lot towards the refreshment table, only looking up as she starts to put it back into her pocket.</p><p>She barely sees the person in front of her before she collides with them, tumbling onto the ground in a heap.</p><p>“Ow,” she mutters.</p><p>“Sorry. I’m so sorry, Em.”</p><p>Emma opens her eyes as she rubs the back of her head. “Oh.” She swallows. “Hi, Lys.”</p><p>“Hi,” Alyssa whispers, so close, too close, close enough that Emma’s brain scrambles.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” she asks, stupidly.</p><p>Alyssa gives a quiet laugh. “I was thinking about doing a bike ride for charity.”</p><p>“Oh. That’s… That’s nice. I volunteer at a bike ride for charity.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. You’ve been donating to it, too.”</p><p>Emma flushes. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Uh… How did you…”</p><p>“Thirty dollars to my ‘team’ every year since we were fourteen. Anonymous. Except this year instead of being done through the website, your grandmother dropped it off for you in person.”</p><p>“Dammit. I knew I couldn’t trust her.”</p><p>Alyssa’s gaze wanders for a moment. “Why have you been doing it? You already volunteer your time. You don’t need-”</p><p>“Need, no. But I like making sure you have the support.” Emma turns her head, just a little, to avoid Alyssa’s intense stare.</p><p>“Things have been… uncomfortable. This past year,” Alyssa murmurs. “I can feel it. You never wanted to talk about it, and I could never figure out how to explain, and at a certain point I realized I’d have to do it in person. I’d have to end this in person.”</p><p>Emma flinches, a sharp foreboding dread spiking through her stomach.</p><p>“No, no, that’s not what I mean,” Alyssa says quickly. “Goddammit, I don’t know why I’m so bad with words every time I’m around you. It’s like I see you and every bit of sense I’ve ever had just vanishes.”</p><p>“I just want you to be happy,” Emma says softly.</p><p>“I <em> am </em> happy. Happiest the one day a year that I’ve gotten to see <em> you. </em> I just wish I’d figured out how to get my shit together sooner to see you more often than that. To be happiest more often than that.”</p><p>Emma frowns. “What are you saying, Lys?”</p><p>“You caught me off-guard. I never expected one of us to be able to ask for a real date. I was scared of what would happen if we finally took that next step, and I never meant to laugh at you for being the smarter, braver, of the two of us. We’re both home now. We’ve both graduated. We’re going to be looking to start the next stages of our lives.” Alyssa leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Emma’s lips. “I want to start them together, Emma.”</p><p>The air knocks straight out of Emma’s lungs, and she gapes at Alyssa for a moment before stammering, “Y-You do?”</p><p>“I do. I don’t know how we’ll manage, actually seeing each other frequently…” Alyssa cracks a smile. “...But I’m pretty sure we’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“Oh, thank God,” Emma sighs. “I wasn’t sure I’d survive another decade of seeing you every year and having to be in love with you from a distance.”</p><p>Alyssa raises an eyebrow. “Decade, huh?”</p><p>“I mean, yeah, my dumb thirteen-year-old brain pretty much fell in love with you the moment I saw you.”</p><p>Alyssa grins and kisses her again. “So did mine.”</p><p>Emma tilts her head to the side. “But… then how did it take this long?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve been wondering the same fucking thing.”</p><p>They both look over and see Shelby standing a few feet away, her phone out as she takes a picture of them.</p><p>“Have either of you even noticed that you’re just. Lying in the gravel. Out where everyone can see you.” Shelby takes another picture. “I’m just curious, because I’m saving this to use as a nice big sign at your wedding.”</p><p>Emma flushes as Alyssa scrambles to her feet, yelling, <em> “Shelby!” </em></p><p>She sits up, laughing as she watches Alyssa chase after their friend. After a few minutes, she takes her phone out of her pocket and sends a text to Alyssa.</p><p>
  <em> ‘No forgetting this time. I’m taking you to dinner after the ride is over.’ </em>
</p><p>As she continues to the refreshment table, her phone buzzes with a reply.</p><p>
  <em> ‘It’s a date. &lt;3’ </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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